<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Keep Your Head Up by shelovestowritenonsense</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816586">Keep Your Head Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelovestowritenonsense/pseuds/shelovestowritenonsense'>shelovestowritenonsense</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fever, Fluff, Hope you like it!, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sick Character, Sick Peter Parker, This is my first story on here, Whump, brief tony appearance, i hope you guys like it even though i think the writing is bad, i usually write these as self-indulgent but idk maybe someone else out there can appreciate nicole, i wouldnt say its angsty per se just a little dramatic, i’ll continue to write abt her if people like her, i’ll just sit and wait, see if anyone reads</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:22:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelovestowritenonsense/pseuds/shelovestowritenonsense</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter nodded silently as he took a look back at his writing. His vision was blurry and even looking at the paper made his eyes hurt. He’d been feeling like this since yesterday and it made the rest of today hell. He could hardly tell what he did wrong and he didn’t want to ask Nicole. She would just get mad at him and it would only make everything worse. Nicole shared so many similarities to Tony despite not being related and a short temper was one of them. </p><p>or</p><p>Peter gets sick and Nicole, another superpowered teen and Stark intern has to take care of him. He thinks she’s reluctant when that isn’t the case at all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Keep Your Head Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is my first published story on here! it features my oc Nicole, who I hope to write more about in the future. i hope you like it this enough to leave a kudos and/or a comment!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Peter, you forgot to multiply x by pi on this one, can you fix it so we can finish our project? Mr. Hamilton expects it done by tomorrow.” Nicole handed Peter’s messy scrawl of equations back to him. </p><p>Peter nodded silently as he took a look back at his writing. His vision was blurry and even looking at the paper made his eyes hurt. He’d been feeling like this since yesterday and it made the rest of today hell. He could hardly tell what he did wrong and he didn’t want to ask Nicole. She would just get mad at him and it would only make everything worse. Nicole shared so many similarities to Tony despite not being related and a short temper was one of them.  </p><p>He could tell she was frustrated. Nicole despised AP Chemistry, it was her least favorite class at Midtown Tech. Peter gladly took on the task to be her partner. He figured it would be a simple project with both of them working on it together, but it was due tomorrow and they had hardly put together any of the six requirements as a whole, just fragments of each one. The math was muddled in Peter’s brain. He could hardly trace his steps and see what he did wrong. Despite all his best efforts, hot tears muddied up his vision even more and escaped down his cheeks. He was forcing the sobs down so nothing would come out like he was a dying animal. </p><p>“Peter, did you fix it?” Nicole’s voice was no longer crystal clear. His ears felt like water had found its way inside the canal and was blocking everything up. </p><p>Nicole reached for the paper that had been fervently clenched in Peter’s hands and read it over. </p><p>“Peter, the equation is still wrong,” Nicole scolded. She looked up across her lab table to see a slightly shaky Peter, in tears. “Peter?”</p><p>Nicole’s annoyance levels dipped tremendously when she saw Peter’s current state. He was crying. Nicole had never seen him cry. Worry carved its way into her heart, squeezing it tight. </p><p>“Peter, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Nicole thought about her tone just a few second ago. Maybe he’d had a bad day and was sensitive to everything. That happens plenty so she was worried she’d been the cause of his distressed demeanor. “Was it something I said?” </p><p>Peter began to cry harder, not caring whether or not Nicole was angry at him. He had this sick thought he deserved it, considering how much he bothered her on the daily. Peter was almost sure Nicole secretly hated him and only put up a front in front of Mr. Stark. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Peter choked out. “I hold you back a lot and I-I shouldn’t even be crying over a dumb equation but I—” Peter’s words became unintelligible as he blubbered through tears. </p><p>“Peter, you don’t hold me back. Why would you think that?” Nicole forced some nearby tissues into Peter’s hands. She was shocked with what she saw when he looked up. </p><p>Peter’s face was sheet white, skin sweaty. His cheeks were flushed an unhealthy shade of pink and the bags underneath his eyes were the most prominent feature. His lips were dry and cracked. Peter licked them to provide little moisture so they wouldn’t bleed. His  brown eyes were wild, feverishly bright, and dilated. The  locks of hair plastered to his forehead couldn’t have given it away any better, but Nicole had to be sure. She placed her palm over Peter’s clammy forehead, pulling it away when she felt he was hot to the touch. </p><p>“Peter, you’re burning up,” Nicole breathed quietly. Peter leaned into her hand.  Never a good sign. “How long have you been feeling like this?” Her hand brushed over his cheeks and neck, confirming her of Peter’s illness. </p><p>“Dunno,” Peter muttered, falling into a feverish daze. “I guess I’ve just been feelin’ off.” </p><p>“FRIDAY, what’s Peter’s temp?” Nicole asked, hoisting Peter off of his feet and onto a couch in the far corner of her lab. </p><p>“He is currently at a temperature of 100.5° Fahrenheit. My prognosis is influenza. I suggest ibuprofen for pain and liquids with high-electrolyte content,” The AI told her. </p><p>Nicole was aghast. “Wha—I thought you couldn’t get sick.” </p><p>Peter chuckled half-heartedly. “Guess I can.” A shiver ran through his body. Just a second before he had been uncomfortably hot and now he was freezing cold. </p><p>“Nicole, can I have a blanket? ‘M cold.” Peter turned uncomfortably on the couch cushions. </p><p>Nicole was hesitant. “I don’t know, Peter. You’ve got a pretty high fever and it could make it worse.” </p><p>“Where’s everyone else?”</p><p>Peter was disoriented and confused. Each time Nicole looked back at him, he was paler. She had to get him somewhere comfortable. She had no idea where everyone else was. Mr. Stark said something about a convention in some European country they hadn’t destroyed the capital of. She didn’t have many answers. All she had were questions. It was freaking her out. </p><p>She knew the basics of taking care of people, you kind of have to when you put your life in danger everyday but Peter’s DNA was mutated. His genetic code was different and essentially everything that made his body function worked differently than average. She couldn’t take him to any urgent care or hospital, they would just find anomalies and it would reveal his identity to the public. </p><p>Nicole took a deep breath. “Okay, you can do this, Nicole. You just gotta think.” She said to herself. </p><p>She turned back to Peter, snoring loudly on her couch. A million different things ran through her head so she gathered them together and filed them so they ran straight. </p><p>She gently touched Peter’s shoulder. “Hey, I know you’re sleeping right now but you’d be much more comfortable in a bed and that’s exactly where you should be.” </p><p>Peter stirred. “It hurts,” He croaked. </p><p>“I know, but it’s not a long walk from here to your room.” Nicole wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist, supporting him upright. </p><p>The walk was strenous and seemed like a lifetime but Peter’s room was right around the corner. As gently as possible, Nicole laid Peter on his bed. She dug through his drawers and found a ratty science pun shirt and some sweatpants. </p><p>“Here,” she whispered, handing him the clothes. “Put these on and I’ll be right back.” </p><p>Nicole hurriedly dashed down and the hall and into the elevator. Bruce’s lab was two floors above and it wouldn’t take long to get what she needed. Nicole may not know anything about taking care of people but she knew where everything was. Steve’s super soldier meds were in a red white and blue bottle with a piece of masking tape that said “Cap’s Bottle - Do Not Touch”. Just this once, she had to touch. Bruce had a prototype of pills for Peter but they hadn’t been properly tested and Nicole didn’t want to risk anything. Peter had taken one of Cap’s meds before and it worked on him tremendously. If they wouldn’t cure him, it would at least bring his fever down. Being mindful, Nicole made sure FRIDAY monitored Peter’s condition and alert her of any drastic changes. </p><p>“FRIDAY, how’s Peter doing?” Nicole asked, punching in the passcode to Bruce’s lab. </p><p>“He is currently asleep in his bedroom. His temperature, however, has risen significantly since you last checked, going from 100.5° to 102.3°.” </p><p>Nicole’s heart dropped into her stomach. That was a fast jump between numbers. Maybe having manipulated DNA caused abnormalities in illness. He was sicker by the second and she was panicking. Luckily, Nicole managed to break the lock on the medicine cabinet and open it. She scoured through the cabinet, coming up empty on the super pills. She kicked the corner of a nearby desk, quickly regretting it. While her big toe pulsated in pain, she stumbled on a half-empty bottle of regular ibuprofen and it relieved a little of her stress. It wouldn’t do much for Peter; he’d just burn through them but it would have to do. </p><p>Through all her stress, it left Nicole’s head entirely she could teleport. Without a second thought, Nicole teleported herself to Peter’s room and stumbled on a sleeping Peter on the floor. </p><p>“Hey, Parker, the floor isn’t as comfy as this nice bed next to you.” Nicole attempted to pull Peter to his feet but he was reluctant. </p><p>“Floor’s cold. ‘M hot. Do th’ math,” Peter mumbled feverishly. </p><p>She chuckled at Peter’s sarcastic quip. “I know, but the bed will do  a plethora of favors for you.” Nicole lumped Peter’s somewhat limp body onto his mattress and under the covers. </p><p>She gently lifted Peter’s head and placed another pillow. “I’m elevating your head cause it looks like you’re coming down with the flu and with flu comes post-nasal drip.”</p><p>Peter whined like a child. </p><p>“I know, it sucks. I used to always get it when the seasons changed.” </p><p>Peter twiddled with this thumbs, looking up at his co-intern and friend. She always twirled a blue-tipped strand of her ebony hair when she was nervous. He must’ve been stressing her out so much. He was sick and they had a project to work on. This was a waste of her time. </p><p>“ ‘M sorry, Nicole.” Peter could not raise his voice above a whisper. Anything above that volume and his throat would be torn to shreds. </p><p>Nicole’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Peter, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” </p><p>“Yes I do!” Peter began to get a little frenzied, but he was brought down when he threw himself into a coughing fit. “See? I do nothing but annoy you. You shouldn’t have to take care of me. Besides, our project is due soon and—”</p><p>“Parker, please.  Mr. Hamilton can wait a week or so, your health is more valuable.” </p><p>“C’mon, we can go finish it right now. I’m okay, now.” Peter used his elbows to support himself upwards, but the effort was futile. He weakly fell back into the pillows, coughing weakly. </p><p>“Hell no, Peter, you’re very sick and there is no way you are leaving this bed. Stay here while I go get some things.” Nicole brushed some stray hairs sticking to Peter’s damp forehead and left his room for some supplies. </p><p>———</p><p>“Okay, I brought back a glass of water, a wash cloth, and some—Peter?” Upon returning, Nicole noticed a  sweaty bed, absent of one person. </p><p>“In here,” A voice called weakly. </p><p>Nicole followed the voice into Peter’s ensuite and stumbled upon a very nauseous and pale Peter Parker hunched over the toilet. </p><p>“Hey,” Peter rasped. </p><p>“Hey yourself. You okay?” Nicole offered a comforting hand to Peter’s shoulder. </p><p>Peter shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “No. Stomach feels queasy.” </p><p>Nicole pressed her lips into a thin line. “You throw up yet?” </p><p>Peter just shook his head again. </p><p>“Do you wanna get back in bed?” </p><p>“Want to, but I’m afraid I’ll ruin some expensive sheets or something.” Peter’s voice was so hushed she almost didn’t hear him. </p><p>“I can put the garbage can by your bed in case you need to blow chunks.” </p><p>Peter sighed and reluctantly let Nicole position him upright. She got him settled back in bed, quickly getting the garbage can besides his bed. </p><p>“FRIDAY will let me know if anything is wrong or if you’re getting worse but for now, just get some rest.” Nicole brushed a single stray hair behind Peter’s ear. </p><p>He painfully swallowed and nodded, settling into the pillow to sleep. Nicole sat with him for a good five minutes until she could tell his breathing was even. His chest was far from clear and it must have hurt to breathe, but in his deep sleep, he most likely could not feel it. </p><p>Nicole felt like she could exhale. All this time she had been holding a breath and she could finally feel at ease. Peter was resting and she had nothing else to worry about. Except for that AP project due. </p><p>“Jesus—” Nicole exclaimed, sitting straight from her chair besides Peter. At first, she was afraid she’d woken him when he shifted, but when no sign of him awakening was shown, she left his bed side. </p><p>———</p><p>An hour had gone by and Nicole had sent an email to Mr. Hamilton about her and Peter’s project. Every five minutes, she’d refresh her email to see a response. Finally, she got one. </p><p>Miss Richardson,</p><p>I believe strongly that unless the person is bleeding out or dead, their projects shall not go incompleted. Mr. Parker is not incapacitated as such and therefore, is well enough to complete the project. No extensions, I expect it the same time as everyone else. — Mr. Hamilton</p><p>Nicole wanted to throw her phone against the wall. She’d heard from a few upperclassmen about Mr. Hamilton being an asshole but she didn’t wanna believe it. She had specified in her email the nature of Peter’s condition. She couldn’t finish this project in enough time. The time window was too close. She needed help. She was worried about Peter. Last she checked, his temperature only rose despite her exchanging the tepid cloth on his for a cool one that his forehead would heat up in less than five minutes.  </p><p>“FRIDAY,” Nicole called up, exasperated. “How’s Peter doing? Is he okay?”</p><p>“Peter is awake but his temperature is at 103.4°,” The AI said, sounding almost a little sad. </p><p>Nicole sighed to herself. The beginnings of a stress headache was forming and everything was just so overwhelming. She was in the kitchen,  In a spur of the moment choice, Nicole speed-dialed Tony. All she got in response was a snarky voice message to leave something after the beep. She couldn’t blame him. Maybe his phone wasn’t on him or he was in the middle of something very important. Before she could stop them, tears began to fall. She didn’t expect to feel so stressed so fast. She was worried. Peter was sick and she had no one else to help out. </p><p>“Hey Mr. Stark.” She swallowed, feeling tears form at her eyes. “Um, I probably should’ve called sooner but I was so overwhelmed. It’s Peter, he’s very sick. He’s running a high fever and all we’ve got are weak flu meds that he burns through. And we’ve got a science project that our teacher refuses to give us an extension so I’m really stressed, Mr. Stark. I know it’s stupid but I need help. Please, come back soon.” Nicole hung the phone up. She only had a few seconds to collect herself before FRIDAY went into alert. </p><p>“Nicole, I’m reporting Peter is in distress. His temperature is the same but immediate medical attention is suggested.” </p><p>Nicole scrambled to her feet, manipulating some water into a plastic cup on the table. They were both in for a long night. </p><p>———</p><p>Sitting around the table at the Swedish Embassy Banquet, Tony felt his phone buzz in the breast-pocket of his suit. It was an annoying little thing, but he didn’t bother with it. Unfortunately, Tony’s one of these people you can just read like a book. </p><p>“What’s the matter?” Rhodey asked, sipping his second glass of Madeira. </p><p>Tony gestured to his pocket. “Just some annoying spam call. I’ll check it later.” </p><p>“Hmm. What if it’s the kids?”</p><p>“They’ve been okay for a few days now, I’m sure they can handle a few more.” </p><p>“You sure?” Natasha chimed in. “Which one is in charge?” </p><p>Tony pondered that. Did he actually leave one of them in charge? Probably not. </p><p>“They’re the same age—I think.” </p><p>“Tony, go take the call,” Cap advised. </p><p>Tony clicked his tongue at Steve and excused himself from the table. He found a quiet spot in the hallway and opened his phone. Labeled as Katara, he was being notified of one new voicemail from Nicole. He played the distressed call, listening to the cracks of voice on certain words like “Peter” and his own name. He listened to the end and kept the voice message in his phone. </p><p>Tony bobbed and weaved through the crowds, finding his table and grabbing his jacket. The thoughts in his mind were entangled with one another, one running another over. </p><p>“Hey, Tony, I thought you were staying,” Rhodey objected, standing from his seat. </p><p>“Can’t,” Tony said hurriedly. “It’s Peter. The kid’s sick and Nicole’s overwhelmed. Gotta go home.” </p><p>“It’s probably just a little cold,” Clint scoffed.</p><p>“Not when you’ve got a  teenager who’s crying over the phone. So no, Merida, it’s not just a little cold.”</p><p>“Doesn’t Peter have his own meds that Bruce personalized?” Steve chimed in. </p><p>“Those were just prototypes, Old Glory. Smart kid, Nicole. She wasn’t gonna touch those pills unless proven effective.” </p><p>“What about mine? Those seem to work on the both of them.” </p><p>“They must not have been in there. Listen, this press conference is great but I’m really trying not to come home to a corpse.” Right in front of their eyes, Tony was gone. </p><p>Outside the embassy, he assembled into his suit.</p><p>“FRIDAY, calculate a route to New York. We’re headin’ home for the holidays”. </p><p>———</p><p>“You need to drink some water, Peter. Hydration is really important.” Nicole lifted the cup to Peter’s cracked lips. </p><p>Peter turned away from her. “Just gonna throw it up again.” </p><p>Nicole groaned quietly. Peter was dangerously sick. His temperature elevated and decreased within different periods of time and all energy he had was depleted from continously throwing up his entire immune system in the bathroom. She wasn’t frustrated with him, she couldn’t be. He was sensitive to everything. They were helpless. Nicole ran a hand through her blue-tipped curls; there was nothing effective she could do. Anything he ate came back up and he could hardly tolerate a cold compress that instantly warmed up after  two minutes. </p><p>“Just try and get some more sleep for now.” The feeling of Peter’s soft brown hair through her hand was so comforting. At least he was in a safe space where he was trusted and loved. At the apartment in Queens, he would’ve suffered in silence and probably been found dead in his tiny bedroom since he was notorious for his lack of self-preservation skills. </p><p>Once Peter was fast asleep, she left his bedside to head back to her lab. Their project was unfinished, sad, and alone. She had to put her mind on something else, so it was back to work. </p><p>———</p><p>Nicole had a copy of the project instructions up on the screens above her as well as a constant watch on Peter, who hadn’t stopped sleeping for the past two hours. At times like these, she’d put on some music, probably her rock and roll playlist, it gave her some adrenaline. Her mind wasn’t in the right place for AC/DC or Bon Jovi. </p><p>“Focus, Nicole.” She sat at her desk, sketching out an image of the project in frustration. </p><p>“Careful, Katara, or else you’re gonna rip a hole through the desk.” Nicole turned to see Tony standing in the doorway of the lab. </p><p>A wave of relief washed over her body. “How did you get back to the compound so fast? I only sent that voicemail a little while ago.” Nicole crumpled up the paper she was sketching on. </p><p>Tony pulled up a chair next to Nicole’s desk. “Having a superpowered suit is a nice shortcut.” He shrugged. “So, what’s the damage?” </p><p>Nicole’s face soured. “He’s sleeping, for now. Uh, it just happened all at once. FRIDAY reported he’s at about 103.8°.”</p><p>“You still gotta finish the project? What is it?” Tony gestured to Nicole’s messy table. </p><p>“It’s supposed to be a lava lamp. We make our own shit and everything. We only got through with the equations.” Nicole uncrumpled an old prototype sketch she had thrown away earlier that day. </p><p>“What kind of shithead makes students finish this project within a day? You sure this was assigned yesterday?”</p><p>“As God as my witness.” </p><p>Tony wrapped an arm around Nicole. It was only then he noticed her red-rimmed eyes from crying just a little bit earlier. </p><p>“I’ll talk to your teacher or send him a strongly worded email later.” </p><p>“Can you explicitly call him a dickhead?” </p><p>When Nicole said this, it was then Tony realized that the superpowered teenager was nearly exactly like him. </p><p>“Sure, Nic.” </p><p>———</p><p>Peter blinked fast to let his eyes focus in his room. It was entirely dark, he could hardly see the outline of his feet underneath the covers.  It was so dark, Peter lost all sense of time. When Nicole put him to bed, it was still light out. </p><p>“FRIDAY, what’s th’ time?” He slurred, still pretty out of it. </p><p>“It’s currently 6:30 PM, Peter.” Peter loved the setting FRIDAY had where if you whispered to the AI,  she’d whisper back. </p><p>“Where’s Nicole?” He asked. </p><p>“She’s in her lab with Mr. Stark.” </p><p>Mr. Stark was back? Peter thought he was supposed to come back in two days. He had to see for himself. Swinging his legs out of bed, Peter convinced himself he was well enough to leave his bed. He was sorely mistaken. He had lost nearly all sense of balance and could hardly stand upright. Whispering words of encouragement to himself, Peter managed to make it at least three feet away from his door but that didn’t mean he didn’t do it without any struggle. With each step he was breathless, struggling to catch his labored breath. He braced himself against the cold wall and attempted to gather himself together. Spots danced in his vision, as if to taunt him saying “Weakling.” Peter was the living embodiment of the tilt-a-whirl ride at any amusement park; he was tilting over on his feet and just before he knew it, he was out cold on the cool floors.   </p><p>———</p><p>Again, Peter’s vision refocused, this time taking note of two figures sitting next to his bed. Nicole was lounging in his beanbag chair, most likely reading an e-book telling from the quizzical look on her face. The other figure was relaxed in a regular chair, head resting in his hand. </p><p>“Mis’er St’rk?” Peter questioned, weakly clearing his throat after. </p><p>Tony was startled by the tiny voice coming from the bed. His face melted into a look of concern when he sat besides Peter’s covered legs on the bed. </p><p>“You’re down pretty bad, huh?” Tony half-smiled at Peter. </p><p>“You could say that.” Peter leaned over to cough into his elbow. Each bone-rattling cough injured him more than the last. He was sick of being sick. </p><p>Tony nodded his head over at his other intern. “She’s been watching over you pretty well.”</p><p>Peter looked over at Nicole, still intently focused on reading. She looked over her screen when she noticed Peter staring at her. She smiled sympathetically. </p><p>“Yeah, she’s doing just fine.” Peter suddenly remembered the project they hadn’t finished. “Wait, but what about or project. Mr. Hamilton’s a—”</p><p>“Dick, I know. Don’t worry, kid, I’ve got that all under control.”</p><p>By under control, Tony meant he had a heated conversation with the aforementioned dick and was able to get an extension for the project. He also programmed his bots to get the lava whipped up so the kids could finish the rest of it later. </p><p>“You didn’t have to come, y’know.” Peter muttered. </p><p>“I didn’t have to but I wanted to.” Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s sweaty hair. “I can’t leave you two alone especially if one of you leaves a panicked voicemail.” </p><p>“She called you?”</p><p>Nicole’s airpods were in so she wasn’t hearing any of this at all. </p><p>“I wouldn’t be here without her letting me know. She doesn’t hate you, Pete.” </p><p>Peter smiled at Nicole, still focused on whatever she was reading. It was nice, knowing she cared and all. She had her walls, but walls were made to be broken. </p><p>“Yeah, I guess she doesn’t.” </p><p>Tony left Peter’s bed and tapped Nicole on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here and get on this project. Underoos needs some rest.” </p><p>Tony left the room, Nicole following behind her mentor. She reached the doorway, turning back to face Peter. </p><p>“You gonna be okay in here?” She asked. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, you go ahead.” Peter settled into his pillow, feeling his eyes slip close. </p><p>“Night, Peter.” </p><p>“Night.”</p><p>Fin.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope you enjoyed this! personally, it’s not my best but i think it’s alright! leave a kudos and/or a comment if you want to see more of nicole! i’m still figuring ao3 out but hopefully i post more in the future!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>